


Limb Loss

by mx-fawkes (SkippingCitrus)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Mild Gore, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-14 20:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7188953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkippingCitrus/pseuds/mx-fawkes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Messy thing about Junkrat losing his arm and leg and dealing with recovery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I know they say petrol costs an arm and a leg but this is ridiculous

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for some gore, amputation, very implausable first aid.

It was a regular evening for them, riding down a cracked highway, headed for Sydney, Junkrat talking about ways to get out of the country, places they could go. Roadhog occasionally commented to correct his geography, or to suggest routes to connect Junkrat's increasingly implausible list.  
It was starting to get dark when they came across what used to be a petrol station, now just another abandoned building along another empty road. Worth searching though, petrol wasn't cheap and if they could just fill the bike it'd save them the hassle of finding someone still willing to sell to them. 

He jerked to a stop next to it, Junkrat pausing in his rambling plans to follow him. Hog left the bike running as they moved closer, always did just in case they needed to run. Nobody had dared try and steal it yet. 

The front of the building was blocked off, but there was an open doorway around the side. Looked like a trap. Roadhog was just about to say so, hand already reaching out to grab Junkrat's tyre and stop him running in when he noticed the other man was gone, had moved several feet away from the building and was staring at the ground intently. 

"Oi, there's something buried here.” He crouched, hands digging through the dirt when they both heard the bang  
They both spun to face the noise, barely catching sight of the missile before it hit the ground next to Junkrat, sending a cloud of dirt flying into the air. Roadhog heard him scream, eyes frantically searching the area the shot had come from, trying to find the source of the danger.  
Man crouched on the roof, desperately reloading his launcher before aiming it again.  
He threw his hook, catching it around the man’s neck before he could launch a second shot, yanking it hard enough to pull him from his vantage point, close enough for him to shoot, watching the blood spray with a sick sense of satisfaction. 

A gunshot to his right, bullet hitting him in the shoulder, making him hiss in pain. He spotted two others hiding out in the building, gun barrels pointing though a broken window, He grabbed the man's launcher from the ground, pointing it at the building and firing. He heard screams from inside, but had more important things to deal with. Junkrat was still lying on the ground. He ran over to him, ready to drag him out of there, to patch him up and try and talk him out of coming back for revenge. 

The sight of Junkrat lying there made his freeze for a moment, panic stabbing through him.  
He was breathing, short gasping breaths that weren't getting enough air into his lungs. His eyes were wide open, staring up at the sky. He didn't seem to notice as Roadhog moved closer, staring at his side in mute horror. His right side was blown to hell, leg ending at a bloody stump halfway down his thigh. His arm was still there, a mess of flesh and bone that was barely attached, would never heal properly. 

He crouched next to him, trying to figure out what to do when Junkrat weakly pushed at his chest. "Get the fuck away" was all he managed to choke out. before making some pained noise and clenching his eyes shut.  
Roadhog took hold of his broken arm, moving it away from his chest. and laying it flat on the sand. Junkrat choked out a couple more sentences telling him to fuck off before going silent. He checked Junkrat’s face again. He'd stopped fighting, was just lying there with tears streaming down his face. Roadhog tried getting his attention again but got no response. 

Making the decision himself he took the hook from his belt, holding Junkrat's arm still and quickly slicing through the mess of tattered flesh. Junkrat whimpered, body twitching. Roadhog pulled out a healing gas canister, tried to shake him back into something like consciousness.  
Nothing. He'd lost too much blood already, barely breathing. His hand clenched around the canister. The gas wouldn't work being sprayed around his face, had to be inhaled. 

He leant closer to the other man, fixing the healing canister to his mask and inhaling deeply, feeling his lungs start to burn before he pulled the mask up, pressing his lips against Junkrat's and forcing the gas into his lungs.  
Junkrat coughed heavily, but started breathing raggedly again. 

He checked Junkrat's pulse, still running too weak and too fast. He pulled the mask down again, repeating the process twice more until he could see the wounds beginning to close. Wouldn't grow the limbs back, all it did was force the body to heal faster, but at least he wouldn't bleed out. 

Junkrat remained out of it, not protesting as Roadhog scooped him up and carried him back to the bike, placing him in the sidecar as gently as he could.  
They could head back to Junkertown, there were a few doctors around, they had enough cash to pay for treatment. Of course, there would be a lot of people trying to take advantage of a weakened Junkrat. Fighting gangs out in the desert was easy enough but there were enough people in the city who wanted them dead he might not be able to take them on alone.  
He ended up driving away from the town, heading south. There were a few abandoned houses this way, somewhere they could recover a little before heading back out. The first house he found was in fairly good condition, still had all its walls and most of its roof. He carried Junkrat in and placed him on a worn leather sofa, checking his pulse and breathing before leaving him to drag the bike inside.


	2. It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, and I’m feeling… a lot like I’ve been hit by a truck

It was almost dawn when Junkrat jerked awake, frantically checking his surroundings. He saw Roadhog sleeping nearby and relaxed by a margin. Christ, his whole body hurt like hell. He coughed heavily for a moment, trying to sit up and not realising why his limbs weren't cooperating. 

Roadhog woke with a start at Junkrat's yell, moving over and placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Calm down."  
"Calm down!? I've lost half my bloody limbs and you-" He broke off into another coughing fit, remaining hand clutching at Roadhog as he fought to breathe. Eventually he managed to gasp out. "What the fuck happened?"  
"Got hit by a group at the petrol station. One of them had a rocket launcher. He's dead now."  
"Heh, bet he wished he'd gone for you first." He coughed again. "My chest hurts." Roadhog nodded sympathetically. "Had to use the gas on you, stop you bleeding out." 

Junkrat continued to cough. "Did you shove the can halfway down my throat or something?" Hog shook his head. "CPR." He sighed at Junkrat's blank look. "Breathed it into your mouth.” Junkrat giggled. "So you kissed me back to life? Well aren't you just prince charming." He continued to laugh through his next coughing fit, Roadhog watching him with concern. 

"You told me to get away from you." Junkrat looked confused.  
"When you kissed me?"  
"Before that."  
Junkrat blinked at him for a moment before realisation dawned. "Oh. Right. This thing-" He tugged at his vest. "blows if my heart stops. So if I'm gonna die, you should run." 

Roadhog didn't respond. He wasn't going to leave Junkrat to die if he could help it. 

Junkrat mumbled something to himself, prodding at the remains of his right arm until Roadhog pulled his hand away.  
"Don't pick at it."  
"Right."  
"Or the leg." 

He tugged his arm free from Roadhog's grasp, folding it across his chest. "What the hell am I supposed to do?"  
"Get some rest."  
"I don't mean right now! I can't work with one hand. Can't run or fight like this, we can't keep doing jobs together, can't-" He shuddered, tears starting to fall. "We had plans." 

Roadhog sighed heavily, wrapping an arm around the smaller man's shoulders. "Heal first. The rest comes later." Junkrat nodded, leaning against him. "Stay with me."  
Roadhog settled back down on the floor, letting Junkrat continue to lean against him. "Go to sleep."  
They both went quiet, Roadhog falling asleep first. Junkrat listened to him snore, wiping tears from his eyes. His chances of surviving without Roadhog had been low anyway. If the pig decided to ditch him over this, he was fucking dead. 

He shook his head, trying to ignore the pain in his side. Fuck this. He felt himself beginning to drift off. He'd survived this long, he sure as hell wasn't giving up now. 

Didn't stop him from panicking when he woke up and Roadhog was gone.


	3. To be fair who hasn't cried in a kitchen at least once in their life

He scrambled to sit up, taking a moment to realise why his right hand wasn't grabbling the back of the sofa like he wanted before pushing himself up with his left. 

"Roadhog?" 

Silence. He gripped the back of the sofa, pushing himself up higher and looking around the room. It looked like it had once been a living room, bright sunlight streaming in through a large hole in the roof. No sign of Roadhog. 

He took a deep breath, realising how sore his throat felt. "OI! Pig!" He waited, breath held for any kind of response. Nothing. 

He fell back onto the sofa, body curling in on itself. If Roadhog was gone, he was fucking doomed. Forget the injuries, the people who would definitely come after him if they found out he was alone, just the idea of going on without Roadhog at his side was awful. Guess that proved that Roadhog really had just been going with him for the money. Yeah, he called the guy his friend, tried to be a good pal to him, thought maybe the guy got it, thought of him as maybe a bit more than a pay check. 

He felt tears welling up again and pressed a hand to his mouth, biting his fingers. “No crying.” He mumbled around his remaining digits. “If Roadhog's gone he's gone. Which means back to surviving alone. Step one, find something to drink.” He sat back up, wiping his eyes. Okay. Sofa in a living room. There was a closed door in one direction and an open doorway leading to a tiled floor in the other. A kitchen? His stomach growled at the thought, he wasn't sure how long it'd been since he'd last eaten. 

He looked down at his scarred limbs for a moment, considering if he could make it. Figuring he didn't really have a choice he slowly pushed himself from the sofa to the ratty carpet. He could see the imprint in the dust where Roadhog had been sitting and it made his heart clench. He turned away from it, pulling himself forward and moving in a strange half crawl across to the open doorway, pausing every few seconds to catch his breath. He was worn out by the time he finally reached the door, gripping the frame and pulling himself the last few inches with a grin of triumph. 

When he got inside he started laughing, tears of relief in his eyes. The bike was there. Roadhog's fucking bike was sitting pretty in the middle of the room. He wouldn't leave the bike, that much Junkrat was certain of. He was nearby, he'd be coming back. 

He crawled over to it, still giggling as he clambered into the sidecar. He pulled the canister of water from the side of the bike, holding it between his thighs as he twisted the cap off, pouring it into his mouth and mostly missing, water spilling down his face and onto the bike. 

Burning in his throat lessened, he rifled through the bags until he found some food. He alternated between eating a packet of unidentifiable dried meat and drinking more water, eventually closing the canister and settling back into the sidecar. He yawned heavily, still exhausted. He considered crawling back to the sofa, but he felt comfortable enough in the sidecar. He was safe on the bike, Roadhog wouldn't leave the bike. He curled up in his seat, patting the metal of the bike affectionately before falling asleep.


	4. This chapter is inaccurate to canon as Junkrat dreams of an explosion and doesn’t wake up with a boner

He stood on top of the hill behind his house, red dirt staining his feet. Someone was calling his name but the voice barely registered, his entire focus on the scene unfolding a few miles away.

The Omnic centre, that ugly shard of metal sticking out from the desert, was on fire. He watched random bursts of flame coming off the side of the building, reminded him of the bottle bombs people used to throw at Omnic’s before they were told they couldn't do that anymore.

He'd been told they had to leave because of the Omnic centre, didn't really understand why. Maybe that was what caused the thrill in his chest as he watched the metal of the building glow red, anticipation building within him before everything went white. 

The explosion is still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. 

He'd woken up with a ringing in his ears, an afterimage of the shard burned into his eyes, visible as he blinked, shaking his head to try and clear it. Slowly standing he stared at what little remained of the building, took in the metal that had scattered everywhere, as far as he could see. He'd run back to the house, desperate to tell someone, to share what he'd seen. And then he'd noticed the chunks of metal breaking through the walls, the roof. Realised he couldn't hear anyone calling for him anymore. He ran for the door but everything seemed so far away, ground slipping from beneath his feet as he called for someone, anyone who was left. 

"Wake up." 

He jerked awake, Roadhog's hand heavy on his shoulder. "Hog?" He glanced around. Still in the sidecar. "What's goin’ on?"  
Roadhog huffed through his mask. "Why are you here?"  
Junkrat shrugged slightly, rubbing his eyes. "I was thirsty, and you were-" His eyes snapped open, glaring accusingly at Roadhog. "And where were you, you bastard? Thought you'd gone and left me before I saw the bike."  
Roadhog tilted his head, releasing his shoulder. "Checking the house. There's a bunker out back, still got some good supplies in it." Junkrat nodded, slightly mollified.  
"Don't go off without telling me again, alright?"  
"Fine."


	5. In which Junkrat ignores the advice of after school specials

"Fine."  
Junkrat nodded, sitting back and trying to get comfortable again, doing his best to stretch out in the cramped sidecar. Roadhog's gaze shifted, looking at his damaged side. "Gonna need to check those." Junkrat shrugged. "They're fine, ache something chronic though." 

Roadhog leant over him and pulled open their medical bag, grabbing a roll of clean bandages, some wipes, and a plastic bottle of white pills, offering it to Junkrat. 

They'd won most of their medical supplies from a scrap with a Junker gang a few towns back, after a failed ambush had left the desperate group with a dead leader and half their base gone in a fiery explosion. They'd quickly surrendered, prepared to offer anything to make the duo leave. The two had taken their cash, their medicine, any pieces of scrap Junkrat thought looked useful.

The plasters and bandages saw some use, but the bottle of painkillers hadn't been touched, both of them just taking the pain without complaint. Well, Junkrat complained sometimes, just for the sake of complaining, but he'd never bothered with the pills before.

"I'm fine, don't need 'em." Roadhog didn't move, still holding the bottle out for him to take. 

"Really, I'm a-okay mate." A pause. "It doesn't hurt that bad, I can ignore it." Roadhog shook the bottle, pills rattling. Junkrat sighed, snatching the it from him. "Fine, but I don't actually need them, alright?" 

"Whatever." Was all he got in response, Roadhog watching as he shook a single pill into his palm and swallowed it dry. He drank some more water, glaring at Roadhog until the pain started to ebb away. 

Soon enough it calmed the dull pain in his limbs, making everything feel pleasantly soft around the edges as Roadhog moved him from the sidecar back across to the sofa. 

He lay back, giggling to himself as Roadhog knelt before him, tightly wrapping bandages around his leg. "Y'know I'm not bleeding anymore, right?" Roadhog didn't answer for a moment, focusing on his task. "It'll swell." Tucking the bandage into itself he tugged Junkrat forward, starting on his arm.  
Junkrat smiled to himself, reaching out with his free hand and patting Roadhog's head. The annoyed grunt he got left him grinning. "How come you know so much about medical stuff?" He scowled as Roadhog just shrugged, tugging at his ponytail to hear the irritated growl.  
"C'mon, how do I know you aren't just making this up? Did you used to be a doctor?" No response. "Nah, bet you couldn't hold the tools with hands like yours. Vet? Take care of little piggies?" He kept rambling to himself about the hundreds of jobs Roadhog could have held, dismissing most of them out of hand and not paying attention to Roadhog's increasingly irritated headshakes. 

"Did it for someone else." He eventually growled.  
That got Junkrat's attention, the idea of someone else being in his position, lying back with Roadhog's huge hands gently taking care of them making his stomach twist uncomfortably as he jerked into a sitting position. "Who!?"  
Roadhog let out a long sigh, shaking his head.  
"It was before."  
"Before what? The crisis?"  
Roadhog didn't answer, checking the bandages were secure before clambering to his feet and silently leaving the room. "Oi! Don't ignore me!" Junkrat shoved himself off the sofa, starting to crawl across the carpet when he heard a distant door slam. "You twat!” 

-

The next few days passed in a haze for Junkrat, the painkillers keeping him mostly compliant as Roadhog tried to keep him on the sofa as much as possible, letting him fidget and stretch as much as he wanted, but refusing to let him go anywhere else.

Roadhog was being unusually nice, bringing him food, water, carrying him outside when he needed to piss. It was better than the times he’d been injured back when he was alone, he’d usually just curled up in whatever shelter he had at the time and tried to hold out until he was healed enough to get back to surviving. 

But really, this whole sitting still and waiting to heal thing was killing him worse than the explosion nearly had. Trying to explain this to Roadhog had just caused him to walk off again, leaving him alone on the sofa for what felt like hours, staring at the ceiling with nothing to do but think about what they would do when they finally got moving again. He was still angling for leaving the country, heading for Sydney and going out with a bang before getting a boat someplace better. 

Stealing a boat would be easy enough, he wasn't sure how to drive one, or how you knew which way you were going out on the water, but it couldn't be that difficult. The other option was getting someone else to take them, either threatening or bribing someone to get them out. 

Roadhog had told him about the big tourist boats that came in and out of the harbour, would be easy enough to disguise themselves as normal people and slip onboard. Though honestly, the idea of him and Roadhog pretending to be city wankers was just hilarious to him. Where would they even get a suit Roadhog’s size? 

He was still laughing at the idea when Roadhog returned from the bunker. He'd said something about there being some valuable supplies inside, but Junkrat was fairly certain he was just using it as a place to hide from his constant whining, which had gone up by a factor of a thousand now he was alert enough to be bored. 

He scrambled to sit up, grinning manically. "Hey! You ever worn a suit before?"  
He got a blank stare for his trouble, Roadhog moving across the room to check his limbs.  
"They're fine. Same as they were last time you checked. Can we get going already?" 

Roadhog shook his head, "Not until-" Junkrat growled in annoyance, jerking his arm from Roadhog’s grasp. "I’m fine. What’s your problem?" Roadhog didn’t respond, trying to check his leg before Junkrat pulled that away too, scrabbling back to the other end of the sofa.  
There was a long pause before Roadhog answered. "I'm not letting you get hurt."  
Junkrat let out a yell of frustration, gesturing to his right side. "Bit late for that mate!" 

There was another long pause, Roadhog's fists clenched around the fabric of the sofa. Junkrat seething, trying to glare Roadhog into submission, quickly giving up and flopping back onto the cushions. "At least let me go round the house." 

They managed to fix together a crutch with what they had, bits of wood held together with duct tape and determination, it felt awkward strapped to Junkrat's arm, but it would do. He got into the routine of it quickly enough, pacing around the room, Roadhog close enough to reach out and catch him whenever he stumbled or overbalanced. 

He couldn’t use it for long, body unused to the strenuous activity after being still for so many days and he soon found himself back on the sofa, body tired but mind buzzing. He tugged at Roadhog’s hand until he came and sat with him, leaning against the bigger man’s arm and sighing contentedly.  
“See? All better. Well, Y’know.” He half shrugged, pressing closer against Roadhog’s side and throwing an arm over them both, eyes sliding closed. “All good now, right?” Roadhog pulled his arm free, disappointing Junkrat for a moment before it reappeared at his back, pulling him closer and holding him in a loose embrace. He said something in response but Junkrat didn’t hear it, already lulled to sleep by the rise and fall of the other man’s chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I haven't been responding but thanks for the comments and stuff. I really do appreciate it.


	6. In an alternate universe he tunes into Mr South Wales and falls in love.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter so far, also has some violence so if you wanna skip that stop reading at "He turned in his seat, leaning out of the window and looking down at the fight taking place. " and search forward to "Roadhog's still watching him, waiting for something."

Junkrat spent the next two days searching the house from top to bottom, amassing a pile of items he decided were worth working with, dumping them on the scratched plastic surface of the kitchen table, now moved in front of the sofa.   
He'd spent the days alternating between drawing future design plans on the back of a stack of business papers he'd found and working on building what he could while he was stuck there. 

It was a pain to do with one hand, using some heavier bits of metal and his stump to hold things in place while using his tools as well as he could with his non-dominant hand. It was working though, and he soon forgot any frustration for the joy of being able to do something again. 

There was a broken radio he'd managed to fix, but after being unable to find any signal other than static, an incredibly boring news station, and a channel that just played high pitched electronic screeching he took it back apart, making piles of switches and wires, ready to be pulled back together into something far more fun. 

A smashed television and a few toys met a similar fate, an alarm clock was on its way to becoming a decent time bomb when he realised Roadhog had entered the room. He was leaning against the opposite wall, watching him work without comment. 

Not that being quiet was unusual for the big guy, he would usually only talk to Junkrat when he was working to remind him to be careful not to blow their current hideout up, or to ask what he was working on whenever the laughter got particularly manic.   
He'd ask him to hold things steady for him, but he suspected Roadhog would have trouble holding the tiny parts without crushing them, especially if Junkrat accidentally nicked him with a screwdriver or soldering iron, something he'd been doing to himself all morning.   
He finished the time bomb, holding it up to examine, contemplated starting the delay. He held it up who show Roadhog, who nodded slightly. Taking that as approval he placed it back on the table, leaning forward and gazing at Roadhog. 

"We need to go out and get some decent scrap."   
He frowned at Roadhog's annoyed sigh. "What's your problem?"   
"Isn't safe." 

Junkrat shrugged, irritated. "Since when do we care about safe? I can't stay here any longer, I'm gonna go crazy." He paused, laughing at himself for a second. Shaking his head to refocus he pulled some sheets of paper from the table, holding them up for Roadhog to see. The drawings weren't up to his usual standard, but they were clear enough, designs for a prosthetic arm and leg. "If I can get the parts I can build myself some new limbs and you can stop treating me like I'm gonna break if I get hit by a light breeze." 

Another long silence, Roadhog kept glaring at him, arms folded across his chest. Junkrat glared back. "Seriously, I've been hurt before, you've never been this much of a pain about it. What's the plan? They're not growing back, are we just gonna sit around here until we die of old age?" 

"You nearly died."   
"So? Part of the job. I'm still alive."   
"If you die-"   
"Then you get to take all the loot and fuck off, surprised you bothered saving me." 

And he knows that's a lie, that Roadhog doesn't want him dead for maybe more than financial reasons. When time began to stretch with no response he looked up.

Roadhog had moved closer, fists clenched and body trembling slightly. Junkrat pressed back into the sofa, wondering if Roadhog had decided he was right, was going to kill him then and there.   
Another long moment passed before Roadhog growled something incomprensible, moving past the sofa and out the front door.

"Oi! Don't-" Junkrat scrambled to stand, grabbing his crutch and heading out after him. Roadhog didn't turn to face him, just kept walking away. Junkrat moved after him as fast as he could, barely avoiding stumbling and falling to the ground a few times, cursing the whole way.  
He was panting heavily by the time he caught up with him, reaching out and grabbing hold of his arm for support. Roadhog stopped walking, but didn't look at him, just kept staring out into the distance while Junkrat caught his breath.   
Eventually he turned to stare down at Junkrat, still clinging to his arm. "What would you have done?" He asked, voice so quiet Junkrat barely caught it.   
"What?"   
"If I was dying? Would you take the loot and run?"  
He stepped away, leaving Junkrat to stand alone, struggling to keep himself upright, sweat beading down his face. "'Course I'd try and save you! I'm fucked if you die." 

Roadhog's fists clenched again, and Junkrat was already backing away when he sighed, shoulders slumping as tension drained from him. "Fine." Junkrat cautiously moved closer.   
"Fine?"   
"Let's go get your scrap."

-

They were packed and out of the house in under an hour, heading north. There was some old scrapyard a couple hours away, far enough away from junkertown that it hadn't been picked clean like some others.   
Junkrat sat awkwardly in the sidecar, crutch held tightly against his chest so he wouldn't drop it.   
He'd spent parts of the ride trying to talk, but Roadhog was ignoring him more than usual, and he eventually lapsed into silence, fingertips tapping against the canisters on his chest. Thinking about it, he was lucky it hadn't blown when his limbs did, luckier still it hadn't gone off while Roadhog was trying to save him. 

He still didn't really remember getting blown up, like his brain had decided he'd rather not know and had tossed any memories of it out the window. Probably for the best, he's pretty sure he doesn't want to remember how badly it must have hurt. 

Kind of unfair though, knowing he'd had Roadhog's mouth on his own and being unable to remember it at all. Even if it wasn't really a kiss.   
His thoughts wandered down that direction until they made it to the rusted iron gates of the scrapyard. Roadhog killed the engine, tapping his shoulder to get his attention before dragging the bike closer to the gates, looking around inside for any signs of danger. 

The place seemed empty, no signs of movement, but there was a burnt out campfire a few feet inside, no telling how long it'd been there. Junkrat had already left the sidecar, looking around like he'd entered some kind of heaven. Roadhog didn't bother trying to stop him as he started exploring, just followed close behind, keeping an eye out for any trouble. 

He also ended up carrying a pile of scrap Junkrat handed to him, more than he suspected would actually be needed for the limbs. He watched Junkrat pull himself through the broken window of a car, fiddling with something inside. He snapped back to attention as he heard a clatter of metal from behind on of the scrapheaps. Carefully placing the pile on the ground he took hold of his hook, ready for action. 

Junkrat didn't notice any of this. He lay across the front seats of the car, trying to remove the gearshift and beginning to wonder if it was too rusted to bother with when he heard the first gunshot. 

He froze, unsure if he should stay put or go join the fight. There was a nearby bang he recognised as Roadhog's scrap gun and a growl of "Stay down." followed by the sound of Roadhog moving away. Junkrat slapped a hand to his head as he realised he'd left his grenade launcher back on the bike, too excited by the prospect of having really decent parts to work with. 

He turned in his seat, leaning out of the window and looking down at the fight taking place. 

He loves watching Roadhog tear their enemies down, gets a thrill from the way he seems to enjoy each fight, the satisfied grunt he makes after every kill. 

Several men were already dead on the ground, and he watched as Roadhog grabbed a guy stupid enough to come at him with a knife, snapping his neck and twisting it nearly clean off. 

He can only see one of the gang left, crouching on top of a pile of smashed cars and aiming a heavy looking rifle at Roadhog's head. He yells out a warning, seeing both of them turn to stare at him, the guy swinging his gun around and getting a shot at him. He misses by inches, Junkrat jumping back into the car and giggling as he heard the guy scream.

There's a heavy thud he assumes is the guy hitting the ground, and then panicked yelling. 

He leans back out of the window, watches as the guy tries to run only to be caught in the shoulder by the hook. He watches as Roadhog drags the guy back towards him, kicking and screaming. 

The guy's trying to pull the hook out when Roadhog moves around him, slamming one of his big metal boots down onto the guy's chest. He grips the chain tighter, pulling him up while the boot pushes down. 

The guy's crying, and telling them everything he knows as if this is an interrogation. It's not. Nothing he's said means much to either of them, the gang didn't seem to realise who they were, just a group trying to defend their turf. Roadhog just stands above him, silently watching him plead for his life, offering them his money, information, anything to make it stop. 

Junkrat gets bored of it pretty quickly. 

This isn't fun. No explosions, no danger running through their veins and keeping them sharp, this is just Roadhog terrorising some poor fucker he's only going to kill anyway.   
"Oi." He calls from the car. "Just finish it already, we don't have all day." 

A quick yank of the chain and the guy's nearly torn in half, a quick stomp on his neck and he's gone. Roadhog looking back at him. He wonders briefly if this is Roadhog trying to work out the frustration from their argument, if maybe this is some kind of warning about what'll happen if he pisses him off further. 

Roadhog's still watching him, waiting for something. Junkrat shrugs. "May as well finish searching the place, yeah?" He pulls himself from the car, reattaching his crutch and making it halfway down the pile before slipping, falling forward and cursing loudly before Roadhog jumps forward, catching him and pulling him close. Junkrat's briefly dazed, face pressed against Roadhog’s chest, still breathing heavily from the fight, not that Roadhog ever breathed that quiet to begin with. 

Roadhog pushes him back onto his feet, and it seems almost wrong that the hands he's just watched tear people apart can be so careful with him. Roadhog's holding onto his shoulders, keeping him steady as he regains his balance, planting his foot and crutch steadily on the dirt. 

He waits as Roadhog climbs back up the pile, getting the armful of scrap that Junkrat had already forgotten about. He waited until Roadhog was back next to him before casting his eyes around the rest of the yard with a grin. "Alright, let's get to work." 

It was a few hours later when they headed back to the bike, Roadhog carrying a huge stack of parts Junkrat had insisted were one hundred percent necessary. 

They paused when they got to it, both looking between the scrap and the bike. Junkrat tapped his foot thoughtfully. "This ain't gonna fit." Roadhog hummed in agreement.   
"Drop some of it?" Junkrat shook his head.   
"I need all of it! It's important stuff. Could fit most of it on my lap, just don't think I could hold onto it." Roadhog moved closer, dumping the pile into the sidecar. Most of it fit inside, but they'd definitely lose some of it driving back. He moved to search through the saddlebags, half listening to Junkrat’s suggestions in the background. 

"We could do two trips, It'd be a pain but we could." Roadhog grunted his disagreement, pulling out some rope and the tarp they sometimes used to cover the bike. He pulled it over the sidecar, tying it tight enough nothing would could flying off.   
Junkrat moved around him, watching him make sure the knots were secure. "That's great, where the hell am I meant to sit?"   
"Behind me."   
Junkrat paused, he hadn't ridden behind Roadhog since he'd built the sidecar a few weeks into their partnership. "You sure?" He shrugged at Roadhog's questioning glance. "Can't really hang onto you anymore." 

Roadhog simply held up what remained of the rope. 

It had always been awkward riding behind Roadhog, he was always on the edge of the seat, clinging to the man in front of him like his life depended on it. Which it usually did, given the speeds they went at. It was part of why he'd suggested the sidecar in the first place, so he could actually enjoy the ride, plus it gave him a chance to lob grenades at anyone chasing them. 

It was still awkward, especially now he was tied in place, unable to give himself any breathing room.   
He still clung to the straps of Roadhog's vest, keeping himself pressed against his vast back. He was quiet for most of the ride, occasionally voicing ideas on what they should do once they were properly moving again, they needed to pick up some more supplies from somewhere, whether or not it would be worth reassembling the radio to take with them. 

The ride was a short one, and soon enough they were back at the house, Roadhog untying him and helping him inside, leaving him on the sofa as he dragged the bike in. He dumped the pile of scrap by the table, nudged Junkrat aside to collapse on the sofa next to him. 

He leant back, almost relaxed before Junkrat smacked his stomach. “Oi, if you’re going to sit here at least shift so I can get to the scrap." Roadhog sighed, rising and moving to sit on the other side of Junkrat. He watched as Junkrat leant off the sofa, sifting through the material.   
"Now, let's get to work."


	7. Rage, pain, and implauable mechanics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry this one took a while, life decided I had to do things this past week.

He can feel Roadhog's gaze on him as he works. Isn't unusual, they've spent a lot of hours sitting together in near silence while Junkrat makes explosives and Roadhog watches. At first he thought it was just to make sure he didn't accidentally blow them both up, but now he figures maybe it's just something Roadhog enjoys. Not like there's much else to look at here.

He gnaws on his lip as he carefully dismantles a small motor, pulling a curved piece of steel from it before pushing the rest aside. Various pieces were pulled apart before coming together, and he hums cheerfully as the leg begins to take shape. 

He stopped humming as a piece of metal decided to be a pain. It needed bending into place as he screwed it still to have some tension, but it wasn't possible without two hands. His brow furrows in thought, tapping a half rhythm on the piece with his screwdriver. 

He was jolted out of his train of thought as Roadhog shifted behind him, leaning more heavily on the arm of the sofa. He glances over to him, chewing on his lip. "You fancy giving me a hand?" Roadhog nods, moving closer and looking down at the table.

"I need ya to hold this over this so I can screw it together." Roadhog easily slotted the pieces together, holding them in place. Junkrat carefully adjusting the angle before dropping a screw in place, picking up the screwdriver and hovering with it over the piece, suddenly very aware of how close Roadhog’s hands were to the screws.

He started to attach the parts, wincing every time he slipped. "Sorry if I nick ya." Roadhog shrugged, keeping the piece steady until he was done.  
The rest of the build was spent with Roadhog by his side, helping when he was needed and watching when he wasn't. It was, Junkrat decided, probably the most enjoyable time he'd spent building something without fantasising about the destruction it would be causing later. 

A series of straps are attached at the top and it's done. He holds it aloft with a triumphant noise, grinning with pride before offering it to Roadhog. "Fancy helping me get this on?" 

Roadhog takes it with the slight head tilt Junkrat suspects means he's smiling behind the mask. He rises from the sofa, moving to kneel in front of Junkrat.  
He presses the socket against his stump, pushing the leg of Junkrat's shorts up so he can start fitting the straps in place. Junkrat knows this, but can't stop himself from shivering as Roadhog's fingers brush his inner thigh. His mind goes racing off until Roadhog squeezes his leg, bringing him back to attention. 

He lifts his leg, shaking it to make sure the straps keep it in place. "Seems alright, gimme a hand up." Roadhog shifts back, taking hold of Junkrat's hand and pulling him to his feet.

The length is slightly off, and he asks Roadhog to unscrew the main part of the leg a little, Roadhog keeps one hand wrapped around his waist, keeping him steady as he twists the leg until they're the same length. Junkrat taps the peg against the floor twice before standing still. 

"Okay, let go." He sighs as the grip on his waist is gone, trying to keep himself standing without the support. "Alright, outta the way, I'm gonna try and walk." Roadhog shuffled to one side, hand slightly raised as if he’s waiting to catch Junkrat if he stumbled. 

Junkrat takes a deep breath before stepping forward. No problem, just a slight wobble before his boot hits the ground. He remains frozen for a second, arms wide to keep his balance. Another breath and he steps forward again. The new leg touches the ground just fine, but as he tries to put weight on it the hinge bends, sending the peg slipping backwards and him falling forwards. 

Roadhog catches him a second later, holding him steady as Junkrat waves his leg, watching the hinge swing. "Joints too loose." Roadhog helps him back onto the sofa, detaching the leg and placing it back on the table. Junkrat mutters darkly to himself as he tightens the joints holding it together, ending the hinge a few times until he gets the resistance he wanted. 

They try twice more, Junkrat growing frustrated as he wobbles and falls, snapping something ugly at Roadhog as he places him back on the sofa. He tugs the straps undone, glaring at the leg.  
"Piece of junk!" He flings it across the room, scowling as it hits the wall. He watches as Roadhog retrieves it, placing it back on the table and staring at Junkrat with folded arms. Junkrat doesn't look at him, just gives the leg a filthy look and considers whether it's worth throwing again. 

"Needs something else, it's not right." He picks the leg up, turning it in his hands while murmuring different possibilities to himself. He barely notices as Roadhog leaves the room, twisting pieces of metal in his grip as he tries to figure out a solution. 

Inspiration dings, and he dives for the pile of scrap, pushing pieces aside until he finds the part he wants, a big metal spring he'd pulled off a bike. A few minutes later and it's attached below the knee. He holds the leg up and pushes the heel down onto the table, watching the spring tighten with the resistance. He turns to Roadhog, wanting to try again when he remembers he's wandered off. "Roadhog?" 

There's a grunt from somewhere outside.  
"Come gimme a hand with this!" 

He waits for a response, stretching the spring for what feels like an eternity. His patience runs out quickly and he straps the leg on himself, cursing at the awkwardness of doing it one handed before jumping to his feet. He wobbles, arms flailing before falling flat on his face.

He lies there for a moment, cursing heavily before he tries to push himself up, nails digging into the carpet as he kneels, then digging into his palm as he makes it halfway to standing before slipping and falling back down. He yells for Roadhog again, angered when all he gets is another grunt in return. 

The idea that Roadhog has better things to do than pay attention to him annoys him on a good day, the idea that Roadhog has better things to do while he needs his help leaves him livid. 

He glares at the leg, nails starting to draw blood. It should be fine. It's as good a piece of work as he can make without a proper workshop, there's no reason for him to keep falling like this. His hand moves to clench around the metal, if the leg's fine then it's his fault he can't walk on it, and no amount of tweaks to the design is going to fix that. 

He grips the leg tighter, muscles tense as he tries to figure a way around it. He despairs for a few tense seconds before anger starts to creep in. If he wasn't so shit he'd be able to walk, if he had better tools he'd be fine. If Roadhog didn't insist on leaving him to try and fix shit himself, they could be halfway to Sydney by now. 

The anger ignites into fury, burning through him as he yells, tearing at the straps and hurling the leg to the ground with all the force he can muster. He thrashes about on the ground, lashing out at everything within reach, yelling every terrible thought he's had since he woke up here. He stops thinking, reduced to rage, pain, and angry sobbing. 

He doesn't notice the clatter of the door, or the heavy footsteps running over to him. Barely registers that he's been grabbed, just keeps kicking out until his leg's grabbed and forced still. He swings at his attacker wildly until his arm's pinned to his torso, a huge hand pressing him into the ground. 

He struggles uselessly until the fight drains out of him. Breathing heavily, he looks around the room in a daze. The table's flipped upside down, metal scattered all over the room. He's also somehow managed to light a small fire on the sofa. He watches it burn, dimly surprised the fabric isn't going up faster. 

He stays limp as the pressure on his chest lessens, tries to grab at 'Hog's arm once his arm's free. Roadhog slaps his hand away, leaves him to lie there as he strides over to the sofa and beats the fire out.  
He giggles weakly as Roadhog turns back to him. "Told ya to come help me."  
Roadhog just stands there, arms folded as he stares down at him. "Can't even take a piss without you hurting yourself." 

Junkrat opens his mouth to argue, but pauses when he realises how much he actually does hurt. There's a deep ache in his muscles, and his hand's covered in cuts from tossing scrap about the place.

"Wasn't trying to hurt myself." he mutters sulkily, flexing his hand and watching a few dribbles of blood run down his fist. Roadhog makes a low noise and leaves the room, returning a moment later with a roll of bandages. He sits, taking Junkrat's hand and wrapping it up. Junkrat fidgets, watching him work. 

"Dunno what's wrong with the leg. I just, I need this to work." Roadhog fishes the bandages, tucks the end in. Doesn't let go of his hand, holding it loosely in his grasp. "You just need to practise. It takes time."  
"I'm sick of taking time, I want to move." He sighs, pulling his hand away and scratching his neck. "How'm I meant to practice if I can't fucking stand."  
"I can help you." He looks at Roadhog with interest. "Yeah? how?" 

They end up back on their feet. Roadhog has one hand holding Junkrat's, the other on his waist, helping him balance. He takes a step back, pulling Junkrat along with him. Junkrat steps after him, feeling the muscles in his leg start to ache as he's lead across the room, clinging to Roadhog's hand like a lifeline. His footsteps went from shaky to solid as he gained more confidence, having a few minutes of steady walking before the ache in his leg started to get to him. 

Roadhog notices pretty quickly. "That's enough." Junkrat clings to him tighter, shaking his head.  
"I can keep going, pains not that bad." Roadhog looks him up and down, noticing the shaking muscles in his leg, the wince he's trying to cover with a smile. He sighs, squeezing Junkrat's hand. "I'm tired, let's take a break." 

They move across to the nearest wall, Roadhog sinking to the ground before tugging Junkrat down to sit with him. Junkrat's barely seated before he shifts again, clambering onto Roadhog's lap and resting his weight on the larger man's stomach. "This is gonna take forever." 

He sighs as his hair is pet, the hand moving lower to rob over the tense muscles of his shoulder. "You'll get used to it. Can work on the hand between practice."  
"Yeah, and when can we leave?" Roadhog seems to think it over, looking down at Junkrat. "Once you've got an arm and can walk a bit better, you can keep practicing on the way to Sydney." Junkrat lets out a happy sigh, hugging Roadhog's stomach as well as he can. "Can't wait."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went through a pretty agressive rewrite, I'll probably post some of the cut stuff over on tumblr


	8. This chapter sponsored by Natasha Bedingfield.

He practiced walking whenever he could, worked on building the arm whenever he couldn't.  
It was quick enough to make, a series of fine springs and tight wires letting him flex his new fingers with all the finesse of his old ones. Well, it would eventually, for now just bending the fingers was still difficult, and fine motor control was a long way off. But still, he was glad to have it, even just to make the space on his right feel less empty. 

Walking was already easier, soon enough he was able to pace the room without trouble as Roadhog watched from the sofa, nodding his approval. "Time to go." He rose, heading out to his bike and expecting Junkrat to follow. 

He stayed behind for a moment, looking around the room. There was something sad about leaving, this was the longest time they'd stayed in a place together. He gave the arm of the sofa a farewell pat, and on impulse tore a strip of fabric from its less scorched side. He stuffed it into his pocket before following Roadhog into the kitchen, where he was finishing packing their few belongings back into the bike. "Ready?" 

Junkrat nodded, briefly glancing back before following Roadhog and the bike outside. It was already late afternoon, sun low in the sky. It warmed him all the same, a contrast to the cool metal of the sidecar. He ran a hand over the metal as he climbed in, feeling the bike lower as Roadhog sat beside him, starting the engine. The familiar roar of the bike filled the air, and he didn't look back as they took off, the house soon vanishing into nothing behind them.

The roads were empty as they continued heading east. Five days of hard riding, seeing nothing but dirt and the occasional empty house. As they got further away from the site of the Omnic blast the land changed, the side of the road slowly gaining more life until they were surrounded by tall grass. They even came across a living tree to take a break under, passing a canteen of water between them as they let themselves cool.  
"Never seen this much green in my life.” Junkrat commented, fingers tapping against the dirt. He reached out, twisted some of the long grass around his fingers. "Bet this stuff'd burn nice if you let it dry." He looked over to Roadhog, who was staring back in the direction they'd come from. "Hoggy?" 

Roadhog makes a noise he can't quite understand, but it doesn't sound that different from the grunt he makes when he's shot. Junkrat frowns, drops the grass to place a hand on his shoulder. "You alright?" Roadhog grunts, still facing away. Junkrat squeezes his arm before leaning against him, eyes sliding closed.  
"We could camp out here." He feels Roadhog's body move, figure's he's shaking his head. "Why not? “Used to be a town down this way. Probably safer than being out in the open." Junkrat hummed, it didn't really matter to him either way. He was just drifting off when Roadhog moved, pushing him away and standing up. "C'mon, let's go." 

Junkrat let out a long whine, falling back onto the ground and remaining there until Roadhog held out his hand. He grabbed onto it and let himself be yanked to his feet. "So how far is this place?" Roadhog pulled him back to the bike, letting him go once he was safely back in the sidecar. "Couple hours." He started the bike, looked out at the road. "I'll wake you up when we get there." 

Junkrat nodded, yawned again before curling up in his seat, letting the vibrations of the bike lull him to sleep.

He blinked awake, feeling something hit his face. He grunted as he felt it again, wiping his face. Did Roadhog just spit on him? He sat up, shaking his head to clear it. "What's going on?" Roadhog was staring straight ahead, but the bike didn't seem to be going as fast as it usually was. 

He scanned the land around them for danger. There was a feeling on tension in the air he couldn't place, running down Roadhog's tense shoulders. "Roadhog?"  
The bike slowed further, Roadhog staring somewhere above them. Junkrat looked up, breath leaving him in a gasp. Angry grey clouds covered the sky, rain already starting to fall.  
The drops were heavy, pelting them both as they continued driving. The sound of it was immense, drumming on the road and the metal of the bike. Junkrat leant over, yelling into Roadhog's ear. "Mate! Should we find another tree or something?" He got a head shake in response. “Town’s not far from here, Gonna stop there." 

Junkrat leant back, watching the clouds, trying to remember the last time he'd felt rain on his skin. There'd been a few times when he was very young, and then it was too dangerous to go out in it because of the radiation. Then after a while it just, stopped. Died with the rest of the outback.

The town showed up on the horizon soon enough, bright lights shining through the rain. They drove into the centre of it, pulling under cover at a petrol station. They remained seated for a moment, both taking a second to let the water run off them.  
Roadhog left the bike first, examining the bright blue pumps before starting to refill the bike. Junkrat stood and stretched, getting the stiffness out of his limbs before moving to stand at the edge of the cover, looking out over the rain.  
It was nice, sure. But he wasn't sure he could cope with it all the time. Nothing would light in it.  
thought sparked he reached up to pat at his hair, it was out and sticking to his head. Roadhog appeared next to him, joining him in watching the rain.  
“Stay out of trouble while we’re here.” Junkrat turns to stare at him. “Eh?”  
“No stealing, blowing shit up, starting fights. It’ll be easier getting into Sydney without the police already looking for us.” So no fun then. By the sounds of it Sydney was going to be a hell of a place, but he reckoned they could take down anyone who tried to stop them reaching it. “So what, we just waiting for the rain to stop?" 

Roadhog scratched at his stomach. "Gotta pay for the petrol, maybe pick up some supplies while we're here." Paying seemed a bit pointless, they hadn't paid for anything for as long as they'd known each other, just taking whatever they needed from other scavengers. 

Roadhog clapped a hand on his shoulder before heading for the entrance. Junkrat followed him, shaking the remaining rain from himself before heading through the open doors. There was a small shop inside, the person behind the counter looking very nervous as Roadhog loomed over them, slapping a few bills on the counter. "Thank you, sir." They mumbled, looking away to tap at the till. 

Junkrat picked a few items off the shelves, turning them in his hands before shoving them back. He looked through some large double doors at the back, looking over a sea of plastic tables to see another counter at the back, surrounded by pictures of meals. "Hog! They do food here." 

Roadhog came over to leek, the person at the counter letting out a visible sigh of relief once his back was turned. He stood next to Junkrat who was already bouncing with excitement at the prospect of an actual cooked meal that they didn't have to fight for. 

Roadhog put a hand on his shoulder, calming him. "Pick a table, I'll order." He strode over to the counter as Junkrat chose a table near the window. He could see the bike from here, still waiting at the pumps. He watched the rain for a moment before turning back to watch Roadhog deal with another employee who looked just as nervous as the first. She kept a forced smile on her face as they spoke, nodding and pointing out several things on the boards behind her.  
He heard footsteps behind him and tensed, watching a guy move into his sight before standing next to his table. "Hey there." Junkrat turned to face him fully. Old guy, must be pushing sixty. Didn't look all that dangerous but you never knew. "Hi."  
"Don't see too many Junkers this far out." Junkrat shrugged, looking over the guy to see if he had any weapons. Seemed clean, but the long coat could be hiding anything. "We're goin' further, out to Sydney." 

The guy raised a thick eyebrow. "Hell of a trip." Junkrat's fists clenched around the plastic of the table. What the hell did this guy want? He was used to conversations following a simple pattern. Either something would be demanded and violence would follow if you refused, or someone would try and get you to buy something. That was also sometimes followed by violence. "Yep."  
Thankfully Roadhog returned at that moment. The guy gave him a long look. "Well, you enjoy your meals." Roadhog sat across from him. Jerked his head towards the guy's retreating back. Junkrat shrugged. "Dunno, just started talkin to me." He looked down at the table, scratching at a stain on the surface until their food arrived. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, but it smelt nice enough and dug in anyway. 

The waitress returned a moment later with their drinks. He at least recognised his own, a hot cup of tea, but the smell coming from Roadhog's cup was new. "What's your drink?"  
"Coffee." Roadhog had pushed his mask up to eat. Junkrat noticed with a small flicker of pride that it wasn't as high up as it usually was when they ate together, these people didn't get to see that much of his face. Weird thing to get excited about, but it was all he had. He shoved the last of his meal into his face, wiping his mouth with satisfaction. "Lemme try it."  
Roadhog didn't speak for a long moment, chewing his food like he's thinking it over. "No."  
"Why not?" Roadhog's cutlery clattered on the plate as he finished his food. "Gives you energy, you don't need it." Junkrat immediately pouted, slouching in his seat. "Please? Just a sip." Roadhog sighed, pushing the mug towards him. 

He takes a gulp, wincing at the bitter taste. "That's fucking awful mate." He took a glug of his tea, swishing it around his mouth to try and get some of the taste out. "Why would you wanna drink that?" He's about to launch into a rant when he realises Roadhog still has his mask pushed up. And he's smiling. It's small, little more than a quirk of the mouth, but it feels like watching a perfectly timed explosion. He's frozen for a moment, gazing at it with something like wonder before it fades, and he realises he's been staring. He turns to look out of the window instead, rain still pouring down. "What next?" 

They end up in a small shop, both of them throwing whatever supplies seem useful into a basket. They split up, Junkrat wandering down an aisle filled with cleaning supplies, searching the labels for that ever useful flammable icon. He's almost done when he turns to look at the back of the shop, pausing and clutching his items a little tighter. There were shelves full of huge bottles of water. The good stuff, not cloudy at all. 

He remembers starting out as a scavenger, underneath the hot sun trying to find anything worth selling. There was water in Junkertown, but none of it was free, and if you couldn't get good enough scrap you had to settle for the cheap stuff, closer to mud than to anything drinkable. He'd drink it anyway, they all had. Seeing what happened to the people who didn't was enough to scare him into knowing that he needed to drink whatever he could find. 

But on this shelf there was enough water to last him for months. There was something sick about looking at it, knowing if he'd just decided to screw Junkertown and run when he was younger he might not have had to make choices between water and food, between sleeping and knowing his belongings would still be there in the morning. It makes him want to blow this whole town back to nothing, see how they like it. Take away this, feeling. Hope too late. Regret? He doesn't know, doubt's he'd even have made it out here anyway without Roadhog's help.

He's jerked out of his explosive fantasies with a light touch to the arm. He skitters backwards, ready to fight before he realises it's juts Roadhog, holding out the basket for him to put the supplies in. He does so, trailing behind Roadhog for the rest of the trip.  
It's getting dark by the time they leave the store. There's plenty of empty buildings around town, and Junkrat suggests they find one to bunk down in when Roadhog points at a building near the end of town. Bright red sign, lot of doors around the outside. "Motel. We can stay there." 

Junkrat watches as another counter person quakes in fear at the sight of Roadhog, handing over a key with no questions asked.  
The room was top class, the bed in the middle big enough for both of them, an actual bathroom just off the main room. Even a TV across the room. He’d only ever seen them in some of the bigger bars, running shows he didn’t understand. He ran around the room, opening every cupboard and drawer while Roadhog sat on the bed, silently watching him move. 

He quickly exhausted the room of any interest, flopping down on the bed next to Roadhog. “You want me to take first watch?” Roadhog shook his head.  
“Don’t need to here.” At Junkrat’s confused look he gestured towards the door. “If anyone tries to break in we’ll hear it. May as well both try and get a full night.”  
“If ya say so.” He looked over at the dark screen of the TV before deciding he may as well take advantage of hog feeling chatty. “This place seem weird to you?”  
“No.” Okay. Maybe not so chatty. He stretches out, marvelling at how soft the bed is.  
“It just seems kinda… clean. Nice. Too much.” Roadhog turns, look down at him as he messes with the pillows. “This is how most places are.” He’s not sure he believes it, that after the crisis the rest of the world recovered. Yeah they probably didn’t have as much radiation to deal with, but Junkertown couldn’t be that different from everywhere else. 

"Why did you stay in Junkertown so long?" Roadhog stares down at him for a second before shrugging, body suddenly seeming more tense than before. Junkrat barely noticed, staring up at the ceiling. "Like, did you never want to go for the coast before? 'Cause this place is way better and you say it ain't even the best place out there."  
Roadhog's silent for long enough that he doesn't think he's getting an answer. He's about to speak again when Roadhog finally responds, voice low and tired. "I fought to stay in the outback. After the blast it wasn't the same, but neither was I. It was a good place to become Roadhog."  
"Who were you before then?"  
Roadhog just shakes his head, conversation over. 

Junkrat drops the pillow to fiddle with his arm, flipping a panel open and testing the tension in the wire before Roadhog speaks. “Take your parts off, need to check your wounds." The panel is shut as Junkrat sighs dramatically, sitting up and unstrapping his leg.  
He drops it to the floor before detaching his arm, placing it on top before turning to face Roadhog. He watches as his stumps are examined, realising how sore they both look, the skin red and starting to crack where the metal joints attach. “They need cleaning.” Is Roadhog’s suggestion. Junkrat sticks his tongue out in annoyance, unsure if Roadhog can even see it under the mask. “Maybe air them out more often.”  
Junkrat growls, bats at Roadhogs hands. “They’re fine. Fuck if I’m moving to go clean them now.”  
“They’ll get infected.” 

He shrugs. "You clean ‘em then." The bed shifts as Roadhog rises, stepping into the small bathroom. Junkrat can hear running water, watches as Roadhog returns with a damp towel.  
He sits down, bed dipping with his weight. The towel is dragged over the stumps in a cleaning motion that's almost painful, but Junkrat's willing to ignore it for the reward of having Roadhog's full attention on him. Once they're cleaned to Roadhog's satisfaction he pats them dry with another towel. Junkrat can't help but grin at the treatment. "Thanks mate."  
Roadhog grunts, throws the towels at the bathroom door before flicking off the lights. Junkrat can barely make him out in the dark as he moves to the other side of the bed. He kicks off his boots and takes off everything but his blue jeans before climbing under the covers. "Go to sleep." 

Junkrat kicks off his own boot, disconnects and drops the vest before sliding into bed. It's not as big as it seemed with the two of them in it, and he's pressed against Roadhog's side in an effort to not fall off.  
He lies there in silence for a while, not sure if Hog's asleep or not. "Hog?" He half whispers, waiting several heartbeats before deciding he's probably asleep. "Dunno why you bothered fighting to stay in the outback, but I'm really glad ya did." He wriggles closer, throwing his arm over Roadhog's stomach before falling asleep.


	9. Oh, you thought that gore tag was just for show?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Some light violence and some heavy gore.

Their nights together usually follow a routine. One of them will sleep first, usually Roadhog, since Junkrat naps in the bike. Roadhog will sleep either sitting against a wall or flat on his back, arms by his sides. He snores, and the sound is sometimes all Junkrat has to focus on at night. He doesn't move past breathing though, just a solid form in the darkness.

Sometime in the middle of the night, when he's struggling to stay awake with nothing to do but stare into the dark he'll wake Roadhog up and they'll switch. Waking Roadhog isn't difficult, he's somehow still alert even in his sleep, and Junkrat's accidentally woken him up before by talking to himself, or by being too loud when he works, building things in low enough light nobody will see it. 

Junkrat on the other hand, can't stay still even while sleeping. Frequently waking up across the room from his bedroll, body twisted at a weird uncomfortable angle he doesn't know how he slept through.  
It's not as bad when he sleeps next to Roadhog, something about the bigger man anchors him, and he usually wakes up with his head pillowed on one of Roadhog's thighs, drooling onto the fabric of his overalls. 

So waking up pressed against Roadhog isn't that unusual. He shifts slightly, tries to pull away and lets out a surprised sound as an arm he hadn't even noticed he was lying on pulls him back, Roadhog mumbling something he can't make out. 

But because the universe seems to hate him, he suddenly realises how desperately he needs to piss. He prods Roadhog into awakeness, slipping out of his grip and running for the bathroom. 

He returns to find Roadhog already sitting up, ready to face the day. He groans, climbing back onto the bed. "You wanna get up already? It's still early." Roadhog shakes his head, indicating the clock on the nightstand. It's one of those round ones Junkrat could never quite figure out, so he just nods like it means something to him. 

"We heading out then?" Roadhog nods, heading for the bathroom as Junkrat pulls the rest of his outfit back on. He stands in the room for a while, tapping his foot and waiting patiently for Roadhog to come back. His stomach growls, and he remembers all the food they'd bought the day before. 

They hadn't bought it into the room though, it was all in the leather bags on the bike. He calls to Roadhog, telling him he'll wait outside before leaving the room. The sun's far too bright, and he shields his eyes as he looks around. The bike's on the opposite side of the lot, which seems a weird place for them to have left it. He doesn't question it though, walking out into the bright sunlight in search of food. 

He's halfway across the parking lot when a group of men appear from the shadows. He freezes, eyes darting around. Ten guys moving in to circle the lot. All of them armed with knives and clubs. 

He looks back, Roadhog's standing by the door, hook clenched in his hand. They both watch the group, trying to figure out their options.  
His hand tightens around the grip of his grenade launcher. They needed to be careful, wasn't worth getting in a fight with ten guys who were in a lot better condition than most of the scavengers they fought.  
One of the group moves forward, the others watching. He seemed to be the one in charge and Junkrat squints at him for a moment, trying to figure out where he knew the guy from.   
Long coat, big eyebrows, ugly moustache. It annoys him enough he misses half of what the guy's saying, just watches him talk at him until it clicks. Guy from the diner. What the hell did he want? 

"-hadn't heard about you two? Some people are offering a lot of cash for anyone willing to drag your ass back to Junkertown." He turns, sneers at Roadhog, still frozen by the doorway.  
"'Course nobody gives a shit about your mate there, may as well leave the fat cunt to bleed-" There's a loud bang, and the guy's suddenly in pieces. Everyone jerks in surprise, even Junkrat, staring down at the grenade launcher in his hand like he'd forgotten he was carrying it. 

There's another beat of silence before everyone moves at once, Junkrat frantically trying to get back to Roadhog and firing at anyone in his way. He watches a man torn in two by the hook, distracted enough that one of the gang gets too close, swinging a spiked bat and hitting his new leg with a loud cracking noise. 

He makes it a step further before the joint twists, sending him crashing to the ground. He throws a concussion mine at the guy's face, laughing as he blows it off. He fires until his launcher's empty, looking around for the next target. 

There's a circle of bodies around Roadhog, and he's currently reducing a guy to mush, stomping on the body despite having a heavy chain wrapped around his neck, one of the gang hanging off it in an attempt to choke him out. 

He reloads the launcher, firing at anything that's moving and isn't Roadhog until things go still. The air reeks of smoke and charred flesh, and he inhales deeply. Roadhog's still struggling with the guy on his back, and Junkrat can't risk trying to shoot him.  
He turns to his leg instead, frantically trying to piece it together before Roadhog runs out of air. He's barely started when a guy he thought was dead rose to his feet. He grabbed the launcher, shot at the man's retreating back as he ran straight for Roadhog, pulling a long metal blade from his belt. 

He shouts out a warning, and Roadhog releases the chain to grab the guy's head. The guy gets one slash, blade shining in the sunlight, before Roadhog's hands twist, snapping his neck with an ugly sound. He drops the body to the ground, twisting and tearing the man from his back with a snarl, breaking him just as easily before dropping him on top of his friend. 

Junkrat watches, giddy with relief as he fixes his leg, slowly rising to his feet. He's about to call out, make some joke when he notices the line of red across Roadhog's stomach. Roadhog follows his gaze down, making some pained noise before clapping his hands over the wound. He drops to his knees, blood running through his fingers. "Canisters." Is all he manages to growl before his body goes slack, falling forward to hit the dirt of the parking lot with a loud thud. 

Junkrat shrieks, running over to him and grabbing his shoulder, body straining as he tries to pull Roadhog onto his back. He can feel a weak pulse against his fingers as the body slowly rolls, jumping back as Hog lands on his back There's blood everywhere, but that's not what starts him off screaming. Roadhog's insides are all over the ground, fallen out of the gaping hole in his stomach. 

Canisters can't fix that, couldn't regrow that much tissue. He feels like he's drowning, everything going blurry around the edges as he's struck with the thought that maybe he can't do anything about this.   
He shudders before shaking his head. He can't keep going alone, he has to do what he can. After all, Roadhog's already proven he'd do the same for him.  
He's not a doctor, doesn't know much more than bandages and fevers. But even he knows he's doing this wrong, reaching out with shaking hands, scooping up everything that's fallen out. He's suddenly glad he can only feel with one of his hands, Roadhog's insides warm and slippery in his grasp. He shoves it all back in, pushing it down and feeling blood pool up to his wrists.

He fights down a wave of nausea. Tries not to think about the dirt, about the filth caked into his hands that could cause Hog to rot away from the inside even if he did make it. He keeps going, has to, so long as nobody's bleeding out the rest can be dealt with later.  
He shoves himself backwards, sprinting over to the bike and grabbing all the canisters he can see. He has no clue how these work, has only ever seen Roadhog use one at a time, would two be too much?

Looking at the injury he makes a decision, kneeling in front of Roadhog. His hands shake as he tries to screw the canisters into place, bloodstained fingers slipping on the metal. The first one snaps on, and he can hear Roadhog's breathing deepen as he attaches the second. 

He places a hand on Hog's chest, feels the rise and fall of his lungs. "C'mon mate, you can do this." looking back at the wound he gags, seeing organs shifting back into place as the skin knits itself back together. He pushes himself away, crawling across the floor before throwing up. He's still shaking, tears streaming down his face. All he can smell is blood and vomit, making him retch long after his stomach is empty. 

He spits bile, forcing himself to turn back around in case it's not enough and Roadhog still needs help. There's a long red line across his stomach, splitting the pig in half. It's not bleeding though, and as he wipes the blood away he thinks it might not even scar. The blood on his stomach is grainy, filled with dirt and he realises that the healing must have pushed everything that wasn't meant to be in there out. 

He presses an ear to Roadhog's chest, hearing a steady heartbeat. He's entranced by the rise and fall of it for a moment, shocked out of his reverie when a hand touches his back. He yelps, jumping out of his skin before he realises it's Roadhog.  
He leans over, staring through the mask to see what he can of Roadhog's eyes. They're open, staring at him with something he can't read. He pulls the canisters from the mask, throws them to the ground before wrapping his arms around Roadhog and holding him tightly. "Thought you were a goner for a second there." 

Roadhog carefully sits up, grunting with the effort. He runs a hand over his tattoo, smearing away the last of the blood. The other hand strokes over Junkrat's hair, and even distorted through the mask he can hear the smile in his voice. "Thanks."   
Junkrat's frozen for a second, still processing all that's happened. He gulps, fails to think of anything to say and settles for pulling Roadhog into another hug, grinning as Roadhog holds him back just as tight. 

He leans back, runs his hands over the mask before darting forward, pressing his mouth against the stitches. Doesn't matter if it's not quite a real kiss, he's too happy to care. He giggles as he pulls back, pressing a hand to his face before he realises he's still covered in blood. He stares at his hand, grin slipping off his face. Roadhog shakes him slightly, snapping him back to attention. "Hog?" 

"We need to clean up and get out of here, don't know if anyone else is coming after us." Junkrat nods, jumping up and helping Roadhog to his feet. He can hear the metal in his knee creak and knows he's going to need to do more repairs on it before long. "Right, let's go."


	10. Cops, Omnics, and city wankers.

They’re out of the town in under an hour, returning to the room for just long enough to wash the blood off before they’re back on the bike. Junkrat had taken the opportunity to search the bodies while Roadhog was in the shower, ignoring the various townspeople watching him with horrified expressions. Honestly, if a group of guys were going to try and kill them it was only fair they got to loot the corpses. They didn’t have much of use on them, must be local if they didn't cart their stuff everywhere. But they at least all carried wallets, and various bits of metal and tech that could be turned into something fun. 

He was breaking apart one of the phones when Roadhog joined him. Junkrat mumbled a greeting, eyes running over Roadhog’s stomach. On impulse he reached out, stroking across the tattoo and feeling the slight ridge of the scar under his fingertips. It was light, only really noticeable if you were looking for it. It even looked long-healed, like he hadn’t been nearly bleeding to death minutes ago. His metal hand twitched, fingers clinking against each other. If only they all got so lucky. 

Roadhog held out a hand, and Junkrat let himself be pulled to his feet. "We got much further to go?" Roadhog shook his head, heading to the bike. "'Bout ten hours."  
The crowd was mostly gone when they left, a few people still hanging around and watching them leave with disgusted looks on their faces. Junkrat flipped them off from the sidecar, relaxing as they were back on the road once more, the town fading into the distance behind them. 

The drive wasn't as empty as usual, enough cars on the road that Roadhog would sometimes have to slow down, swerve around them. The towns they passed through were all as small as the first, a handful of buildings huddled around crossroads. They'd gone through enough of them that Junkrat had lost count, was starting to wonder if they were going in circles and hitting the same town over and over. But he could see the city growing closer in the distance, Roadhog pointing it out as soon as it arrived on the horizon. 

The novelty of having traffic around them wore off pretty fucking quickly, and he soon leant back in the sidecar, pulling out a phone he’d taken from earlier and some tools. Easy enough to turn it into a timer. He didn’t really get how phones worked but he was pretty sure there’d be a way to use them in remote detonators. He cracked the case of one apart, looked at the parts. Overloading the battery would be super easy, wouldn’t make much of a bang on its own but it could ignite anything flammable he put it in. 

The rest of the world faded as he focused on his work, until it was nothing but him and his tools. Measuring powders and chemicals was never easy while moving, but he's used to it now. He's carefully pouring gasoline into a container when there's a sudden roar, like the bike but louder and his concentration snaps, spilling gas and powder all over himself as he looks around for the source. 

On his right a plane takes off, rising into the sky. Junkrat watches it go. He's never seen one this close before, but he used to watch the trails they left in the sky as they flew over Junker territory. They didn't fly that way anymore, not since a group of Junkers had built a cannon powerful enough to shoot one down.   
They'd been after the metal, and pieces of the plane could still be seen in the architecture of Junkertown. Parts had gone everywhere, people grabbing what they could and ignoring the bloody smears that had once been passengers. The suitcases had been the best part, full of clothes, snacks, repurposable tech. Nothing better than a free pair of shorts. 

He stops watching the plane, now a dot in the distance, to look over his surroundings. The city's close now, and the sight of the towering buildings sends a thrill though him. On their left is the biggest body of water Junkrat's ever seen in his life. Big as one of the city buildings, surrounded by trees and green stuff. He thinks about asking Roadhog to stop, getting close and seeing if the waters good to swim in.  
"Oi! Mate, wanna take a dip?" Roadhog looks at him, looks over at the water, shakes his head. "Aw c'mon mate, fucking huge pond right there. You keep telling me to stay clean." Roadhog looks back at the road, overtakes a couple more cars while Junkrat sulks. "Not like we're gonna see another pond that big anytime soon." 

The bike slows a little, Roadhog turning to stare at him. "We're right by the ocean." Roadhog states, so quietly Junkrat barely hears him over the wind. "The big water thing? Hey! Was that it?" Roadhog laughs, bike veering to the left as he loses focus. Junkrat stares at him. "What?" Roadhog just shakes his head. "You'll see it soon enough." 

The river follows them for long enough Junkrat wonders if Roadhog's just fucking with him. There can't be anything much bigger, it's gotta be at least a few miles long. They turn away from it before it ends, moving into a mess of buildings and wow, he'd thought Junkertown was chaotic. 

He likes loud noises, the bang of an explosion, the roar of the bike. This place was a different kind of loud, the sounds of the city all melting together into a wall of noise. He doesn't like it, catching snatches of conversation from around them but being unable to keep track of them all. How were they supposed to stay safe if they couldn't hear anyone planning an attack? 

Roadhog notices his distress, turns left onto a quieter road. "You okay? Junkrat nods, still turning to try and listen to everything he could. Too much movement, lover of mayhem he was, things were much easier to deal with when everyone was out to get him. Then you could take anything moving as an enemy and fire at anything that's not standing still. He's accidently shot at Mako before, and if the big guy wasn't so good and grabbing people to use as human shields he might have done some actual damage. It doesn't happen anymore, he can tell which blur is Roadhog even in the chaos of a good fight.  
He jolts as a hand lands on his head, turning him so he's staring at the mask. Junkrat pauses, tries to look past the lenses but his second of focus is shattered by a loud bang from somewhere nearby. He grabs his launcher, points it in the direction of the sound. He fires twice before Roadhog snatches the gun from him, throwing it down in the sidecar before speeding away. It's better when they're going fast, makes Junkrat feel safe to know nobody's catching up with them. They make it halfway across the city before they slow down. 

It's still too much. So much to look at, and all the tall buildings around him are making him nervous. He feels a strange longing for the outback. At least there you could see anything coming from a mile off. Roadhog seems to be looking for something, head turning as they speed past the other cars. 

Junkrat leans as close as he can, yells over the noise. "You alright?" Roadhog nods, still scanning.  
"Looking for a clear view." Junkrat's about to ask of what when they take a corner too fast, the sidecar scraping along the side of a bus before they're pelting away. "Careful mate." Roadhog grunts in response. Junkrat wonders if this place is freaking Hog out as badly as it is him. From what little he's been told he'd guess Roadhog hasn't left the outback since before the crisis. 

He's starting to calm down a little, relaxing back in the sidecar with only a loose grip on the launcher. Roadhog seems to be getting steadily more annoyed, moving between traffic and buildings with all the tension he usually saves for when they're running from people. Are they running from someone? Had he missed some sign of danger in the chaos?   
He looks behind them, searching for something. He scans the cars, the people. Too many of them are dressed the same, how's he supposed to tell anyone apart here? 

He's still looking when the bike jerks to a halt. He turns, about to snap at Roadhog when he sees it. His jaw drops, staring out into the distance. "This is it. right?" He catches Roadhog's nod in his periphery, unable to look away from the sight before him. 

The ocean. He keeps scanning the horizon, like he'll see land if he just looks hard enough. It's, he doesn't have words for the size of it. It's like looking out over the desert at night and seeing the sand stretch out, knowing there's nothing for miles but this- feels emptier somehow. It makes him feel small. No wonder Hog had laughed when he'd asked about the piddly little river. This was something else entirely. 

And he can feel Roadhog looking at him, waiting for some sort of reaction. He just keeps staring, how does it move like that? What are people doing out in the water, is it safe? He doesn't have a reaction, can't process how fucking huge this thing is. Can't really process how big this whole place is. Junkertown houses had two floors if you were lucky, three if you were really well off. The buildings here stretched up high enough he was surprised the planes didn't scrape them as they went past. 

He blinks, looking away. Roadhog's watching him still, and they stare at each other for a moment. It's easier to focus on Roadhog, the only familiar thing in this place. "This place is fucking huge." Roadhog nods in agreement, turning to look back out at the ocean.  
They stay there for a while, Junkrat asking questions about the city until a new sound catches their attention. Roadhog notices it first, looking around for the source. Junkrat doesn't until he can see the blue flashing lights. "They still have police here?" Roadhog growls, firing the bike up and driving. They keep the ocean to their right, moving along the coast until the sirens fade out. 

They finally stop outside a bright pink building with a glowing sign. Junkrat stares at it, trying to make the letters turn into a word he could understand. He chews at his fingers, whispering sounds under his breath. He should know this, spent a month in a tent being taught to read by some charity. He'd never been that wild about the ability, had mostly hung around for the free food they handed out.

"Stay with the bike. Don't cause trouble." Roadhog orders, leaving the bike to stride into the building, leaving Junkrat to stare at all the people walking past. "Excuse me sir-" The voice behind him was strange, slightly buzzy, and he expected to see someone with one of those cybernetic voice boxes when he turned around. 

He froze as he saw the metal frame. A bleeding omnic was talking to him. He knew was it was, had spent enough time picking up pieces of its dead brethren, but he'd never seen one moving before.

Omnics, he had been told his entire life, were bad news. They'd killed half the world, then tried to take over the outback once the fighting stopped. They were dangerous killing machines and here one was, walking about and nobody seemed to notice.  
It was still talking, the buzzing of its voice beginning to grate on Junkrat's nerves. It wasn't until it reached out a hand that panic hit, this thing could kill him with it's cold metal hands and not feel a thing. He tore a canister from his vest, throwing it and hitting the thing square in the chest. It stumbled back slightly, and Junkrat's seen his canisters blow holes through ribcages before, knows how much damage they can do. 

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you. Please, forgive my impoliteness." The robot waved, it fucking waved at him before walking away. He's frozen again, hadn't expected these things to be so resilient. Guess that's why they had so much trouble with the crisis. 

He can hear somebody yelling but it takes a moment for him to notice it's directed at him. A girl with bright blue hair standing in front of the bike trying to tell him he's being a jerk for attacking an omnic He shrugs, glares at her. "What? It's a fucking robot, nobody-" He pauses, realising how many people are staring at him. He usually wouldn't care, would just start throwing explosives until everyone was either dead or running. But this place didn't work like that, and Roadhog had told him not to cause trouble. 

"A fucking robot? Omnic's have just as much right to be here as you do-" He scoffs, cutting her off.   
"What? After causing all that shit? After trying to take over the outback-" "It's not like anybody was using the land- "WE WERE!" They're inches apart, he's standing at his full height, at least a foot above her. She doesn't seem to care, fists clenched and teeth bared. "Yeah, and you and all the people who decided the outback was better off as a wasteland than having omnic neighbours." "Oh right, sorry that we didn't want a bunch of murderous scrapheaps-" He pauses as Roadhog leaves the building, staring down at the scene. His shoulders slump, and Junkrat knows he's sighing heavily under the mask. 

Junkrat steps back towards the bike, watching him make his way closer. "This weren't my fault! A fucking onmic went for me, then she had a go at me for trying to defend myself." The girl glares, arms folded. "It didn't go for you, you stupid-" Roadhog growls, and she stops talking. He turns to Junkrat. "You kill it?"   
"Tossed a canister at it and it did fuck all, tough bastard." 

The girl seemed to notice they weren't paying attention to her anymore. She backed away into the crowd, pulling something from her pocket. "Hello, police?" Junkrat's already grabbed another canister, ready to start a fight when Roadhog grabs the back of his vest, pulling him back into the sidecar. He throws him into a seat, dropping a plastic bag onto his lap.   
"Mate-" Any protests he has are cut off by the sound of the engine, the bike once again speeding off into traffic. Junkrat's pretty good at navigating, used to finding landmarks when it doesn't look like there's anything for miles. So the thought that they've driven all over this city and he doesn't think he's seen the same building twice isn't a comforting one. 

They end up at the edge of the city, checking into a hotel shitty enough that the man working the counter doesn't look away from his magazine the whole time they check in. It works in their favour, they watch the news once they're inside and they're already on it, security footage of his fight with the omnic- "Told ya he went for me." -and the argument with the girl. If that wasn't bad enough, someone had recorded the fightback at the town. So now the reporter was calling them dangerous criminals, and telling the public to call the police if they caught sight of them. 

Junkrat let out a low whistle, throwing himself back onto the centre of the bed. "Not much point tryin' to play nice anymore." Roadhog nods, flipping through various channels before just turning the tv off. He shoves Junkrat to one side, flopping down next to him and making the bed shake. Junkrat giggles, wriggling over to rest his head on a muscular arm.  
He stares up at the ceiling, grey paint slowly being covered by a black mold growing from the corner. He can hear Roadhog's breathing, not heavy enough that he's asleep. "Oi, Roadie." A grunt in response. "This place is as bad as Junkertown." The arm beneath him shifts slightly, but he doesn't get a sound. "It's full of cops, and omnics, and city wankers who think they're better than us." 

He scowls, sitting up to stare down at Roadhog's mask. "You know what I mean? The looks people keep giving us." He's starting to shake, thinking about all the bombs he has, all the buildings he could level with a well-placed blast. Roadhog places a hand on his shoulder, but it doesn't calm him. He's used to people treating him like garbage, and he's sick of it. Had thought escaping the outback would stop people looking at him like he's something disgusting, had thought maybe there was something better out here. 

"I wanna blow this place off the fucking map, take away their everything and see how /they/ cope with it." He's about to leap off the bed, ready to start flattening the place when Roadhog pulls him down. He yelps, struggling as arms wrap around him. "Keep still."   
He forces himself to relax, unsure if Roadhog's protecting him from something unknown or about to crush him for being annoying. Roadhog sighs, sound echoing through the mask. "They're not better than us." Junkrat remains still, anger slowly draining away as Roadhog strokes his hair. He presses his face against Roadhog's chest, focuses on the slow movement. "Not better than you at least, you know all this civilised stuff." Roadhog laughs, shaking his head. "We're all animals, give them a chance and they'd eat each other alive." Junkrat grins.

"You sayin' you'd eat me?" He feels Hog's breath stop for a second. He scrapes his teeth against his chest, feeling his heartbeat pick up. "Well?" For a minute he thinks he's annoyed him into silence, but then Hog slides a hand over his back, fingers curling around his torso to run across his ribs. "Nah, you’re too skinny." Junkrat squirms under the touch, pressing himself closer to Roadhog, laughing as the fingers move to brush across his stomach. He scrambles up Roadhog’s body, kissing and nipping at the skin until he reaches the mask. He presses a light kiss to the top of the snout, meeting Roadhog’s eyes through the glass. “Lemme see your mouth.”   
Roadhog sits up, starts to push the mask up when there’s a loud banging on the door, startling them both. "Police, open up!" Roadhog pushes Junkrat away, readjusting the mask and grabbing his hook. Junkrat can't help but laugh, he hasn't seen Roadhog look this murderous since a guy went at his bike with a sledgehammer. 

He grabs his launcher, sidles over to Roadhog as the banging at the door continues. "I'll blow the door, take out as many as you can while we run for the bike." Roadhog nods, and Junkrat can feel the grin under the mask as he places a concussion mine on the cracked paint of the door. He steps back, holding the detonator. The police are getting ready to break the door down, he can hear muffled conversation as he waits. There's a shuffle of footsteps, and he detonates the bomb just as they hit the door.

Shards fly everywhere, and he knows he'll be picking splinters out of his skin for weeks. Hog's out the door the second the smoke clears, and the panicked yelling from outside, mixed with the sound of the scrapgun and Roadhog's laughter is just beautiful.

He runs out after him, firing at anything that might be a target until he jumps into the sidecar. He takes a moment to watch Roadhog stomp a cop into paste before whistling for his attention. Roadhog's on the bike in a few seconds and they're off, Junkrat throwing grenades at the two cars stupid enough to follow them. 

They're alone soon enough, with nothing but the rush of wind. "Oi, where to now? Too risky tryin' to find another hotel." Roadhog nods, keeps driving until they hit the docks, killing the engine before dragging the bike into a warehouse. The windows are broken, and half the walls seem to be falling down but at least it's empty and sheltered.

They sit inside, not willing to light a fire in case it gives them away. Junkrat fidgets, watches Roadhog glare at the concrete floor. "So, you wanna go back to earlier?" No response. He moves closer, leaning against Roadhog's side. "You sure? this place ain't much worse than the hotel." There's a growl from under the mask and he decides to drop it, resting his head against Roadhog's shoulder, plastic armour digging into his cheek.   
Roadhog shifts, moving him so his head's resting against his chest again. They sit like that for what feels like hours, watching the lights of the city start to turn on and lighting the sky with an orange haze. It's strange not being able to see the stars.

"Tomorrow." Junkrat mumbles. "We're taking all this down."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm at mx-fawkes over on tumblr and I live for attention.


End file.
